Coaches in the Sky
by CoachesInTheSkyForever
Summary: One man. One charger. One unexpected love.
1. Tough as Nails

I am the original author of 'Coaches in the Sky' but I forgot my password, so I am using this one.

I do not own Left 4 Dead 2 or its characters.

Coaches in the sky

Chapter one

"C-cold… so cold…" Coach muttered to himself, hugging the one scratchy blanket he had close to his naked body.

Coach was in an abandoned warehouse, and had not seen anyone for hours.

"I need to find someplace that's warmer before I freeze…" Coach groaned to himself, getting up out of the bed of boxes he had made. It was soggy and uncomfortable and smelled like old cat feet. The blanket was wet from the freezing rain pouring down from the broken window above him. He slept under the window to prove to his dead wife, Barbara, he was tougher than her.

Coach walked out of the warehouse, not caring who saw him or his naked ass, slathered with boils and poo.

"Hey! Hey, you!" Coach heard someone holler. Coach spun around, his blanket spinning around his body like a cape. He peered into the darkness, searching for the man who had called to him. The voice had been nasally and annoying, and Coach had hated it.

Coach jolted in surprise as he felt a hand grasp his naked shoulder from behind. He shivered in disgust as the clammy hand touched his body. He turned his head to meet the newcomer, but it was difficult to see in the rain and darkness.

"Y'know, I was talking to you." The man in front of him said. He was dressed in an all white suit. He kind of looked like a gay stripper he had seen once by accident when he went to Vegas.

"You scared the shit outta me, son!" Coach said, shaking his head, chuckling.

"Yeah, great," The man in the white suit muttered, raising an eye from his nail file. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was just looking for a warm place to stay. I was freezing in that damn warehouse!" Coach exclaimed, gesturing to warehouse.

"Great," White Suit said again, drily. "But—COME WITH ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE."

"What-why?" Coach stuttered, confused.

"Look at this." White Suit ordered. He shoved a piece of paper in Coach's face.

"For evacuation, go to Hiltz Hotel." Coach read aloud.

"So, you coming or what? I'm not gonna wait around for no one for too long. They're not evacuating for long, and I just wanna get outta here. And I'm sure as Hell not trying to get through this crap by myself. Besides, an old fart like you looks like you could use some help. So are you with me?"

"Sure I am, boy."

"Don't call me that. _Please _don't call me that." White Suit hissed, leading the way to Hiltz Hotel.

"Okay, what your name, bo… uh, buddy… Uhh. Bobuddy?" Coach asked awkwardly.

"Nevermind names, I don't want you getting too attached. I already know I'm sexy. We're just heading to the hotel. Once we get there, don't expect to talk to me ever again. I'm way out of your league, anyways."

"Well, my frien's call me Coach." Coach said.

"Okay, Coach. How about we shut up and get going. I don't want to get stuck in this shithole."

"I don't think I like your attitude, boy."

"No one's making you come with me." White Suit hissed, snapping his fingers.

Coach just shook his head and kept walking.

…

"I'm so freakin' tired." White Suit complained, gasping for breath and sitting on the curb.

They had just overcome a gentle slope, and were close to death. Coach's vision swam and his knees were quaking. He glanced behind him to see the warehouse, only about 20 feet away.

"C'mon, only a bit further!" Coach cried, trying to sound positive, but he was heaving and gasping for breath.

"No way am I gonna keep going! I gotta sleep. Let's go in here." White Suit waved a jewelry adorned hand towards a small secondhand clothing store called Barney's Pre-loved Threads. The window was already broken in.

_Who would break into a used clothes store?_ Coach thought.

"Come _on!"_ White Suit nagged, tapping his foot impatiently, hands on his feminine hips.

White Suit sauntered up towards a large bin full of assorted shirts, pants, and undies, swaying his hips seductively as he walked. Huffing, he took an armful and heaved the items onto the floor. Smiling in an accomplished manner, he flopped down into his pile and closed his eyes.

"Make yourself a bed." White Suit drawled lazily, opening an eye.

Coach stared dumbly at him, large mouth agape. Two days worth of cookie crumbs spilled out of it and onto the floor.

"That's pretty goddamn disgusting," White Suit sneered.

Coach continued to stare, wondering how he could have made such a creation. Mere hours ago, he would have never thought such a feat possible.

Mere hours ago…

Coach's mind began to wonder…

Coach was sprawled on his couch, belt undone. His mighty gut was hanging in a glorious manner off the side of the couch. Cheeto crumbs graced its presence, sticking to it with sweat. It shone beautifully in the evening light.

He stared at his television set, remote in one hand, turkey in the other. The small animal gobbled weakly in protest as he took yet another bite from his back.

A small woman stood awkwardly in front of a building on the news. She was talking of a strange strain of rabies that had been infecting people, and urged people to barricade themselves in their homes until evacuation centres could be set up.

Coach's gaze wandered passively out the window. Outside, he could see a truck full of broken glass spiraling out of control. The driver was foaming at the mouth, and flailing wildly inside the broken glass delivery and pick-up truck.

He roared in surprise and flew up from the couch and out the window. He could feel glass penetrating his fragile skin, but he didn't care. Ever since his wife Barbara had died, he had only wanted to prove he was tougher than her.

He stood on the street, watching the broken glass pour from the truck. A steady rain began to pound down on his head, washing away his blood, sweat, and Cheetos.

Screaming, he tore off his shirt and leapt into the glass.

"Screw you, Barbara! I'm tougher!" he yelled.

"Hey! Hey, hey you! Stop that!" a man's voice yelled.

Coach looked up and howled into the wind. He had been caught. His pants had flown off in surprise. He scrambled onto all fours and took off into the rain, tears falling bitterly down his face…  
…

"Hey, fat ass! You've been standing there for twenty minutes! Are you gonna sleep?"

Coach jolted out of his trance at the annoying sound of White Suit's voice.

"Uh, sure. But I ain't making my own bed, bobuddy." Coach said, not wanting to admit he didn't know how.

"Well, you can sleep with me." White Suit grinned, trailing his hand up the length of his leg.

Coach grinned in delight, and thumped down beside White Suit.

"G'night, Bobuddy." Coach whispered.

White Suit caressed Coach's ear lightly with his tongue.

"By the way," he whispered into Coach's hairy ear. "My name's Nick. And don't you forget it, sweetbuns."

Coach shivered with delight at the feel of Bobuddy's hot breath on his ear.

They spooned with each other's naked bodies until they fell asleep.

End of chapter one


	2. Beautiful Things Can Come From the Dark

I am the original author of 'Coaches in the Sky' but I forgot my password, so I am using this one.

I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters.

Coaches in the Sky

Chapter 2

The next morning Coach pried open a crusty eye and peered at the empty spot beside him. Nick was gone, and all that remained that proved he was even there in the first place was a sweaty outline of his body in the pile of clothes.

"Bobuddy?" Coach called out groggily. He sat up rubbing his eyes, crust falling like some kind of disgusting snowfall around and on his body.

"Coach, you gotta check this out!" Nick exclaimed happily.

Coach sniffed the air and jumped out of bed, following the scent of sweat and fear. He stepped out of the used-clothing store and saw Nick standing in front of a freakishly tanned man wearing a cap with a picture of a truck on it.

"What is this thing?" Coach asked, terrified.

"I think it's a man…" Nick replied.

"Well no shit, silly-pants! You were talking to me for hours a few minutes ago." The tow-truck-hat-man said.

"Hello, Tow-Truck-Hat-Man. I'm Coach, but on the streets they call me 'Snake' or 'Dark Dragon' or 'Low Rider'," Coach lied, trying to impress Tow-Truck-Hat-Man. "And this is Nick, also known as 'Bobuddy', or 'Danger Lion'." Coach lied again.

"Well mah names Ellis, but you can call me El, 'cause it sound mo' like a girl's name. They call me 'Candy Lips', but Keith calls me his Shining Star or baby…" Ellis trailed off, a dreamy expression on his face.

"You know," Nick started sidling up towards El's side, "I think I'd like to call you-"

"I need some help!" a woman screeched loudly, completely cock-blocking Nick. It sure sounded like she needed some help.

"She sounds like she needs some help!" Coach hollered.

"Shit, someone give me some help!" she exclaimed again.

Coach shoved Ellis out of the way, which was completely unnecessary, because Coach was seven feet away from Ellis standing in the opposite direction he was heading.

"Hey, what the Hell isa matter with you?" Ellis whined, sitting in the dirt.

"Allow me," Nick said wriggling his eyebrows, and extended a hand to Ellis.

Rolling his eyes, Coach turned in the other direction, heading towards the scent of the woman's fear. His mighty moobs bounced up and down as he jogged down the street towards a small gas station restroom. It was a total Baywatch moment.

"Hello? Anyone around?" he called warily as he cracked the door to the restroom open.

"I need some help!" the woman sobbed.

"What wrong, girl?" Coach asked, collapsing onto the floor from exhaustion.

"I got a zit in my shit-crack and can't explode it!" The woman screamed, and began to sob louder.

"Here, take this." Coach said, tossing a pipe bomb to her.

"Thanks." The woman said, completely ignoring the fact that Coach had pulled an explosive from literally out of nowhere.

Coach walked away, giving her some privacy. His wet-blanket cape flapped in the breeze, making him look like an obese Superman.

"Hey fatty," Nick said.

"YOU THINK I'M FAT?" Coach cried mournfully.

"No, you're more like a big beautiful woman. That's all. Now I told this dirty redneck about our plan to go to Hiltz Hotel. I suggest you tell Crusty over there, too." Nick said, gesturing to the dark skinned lady popping her ass zits in the mirror.

"Coolio." Coach said.

"So when we goin', boys?" Ellis asked seductively.

"Right now." Coach said after hearing an explosion coming from the room the woman was in.

"I'm coming too! The name's Rochelle, by the way." the woman called out, pulling up her pants and skipping over to the rest of the group. There was blood everywhere.

"Let's go!" Coach said, glancing at a compass he had pulled out of his neck fat.

"D'oh! I was just about to do a strip tease!" Ellis whined.

Coach looked at the compass and made sure they were pointing North. He glanced up and saw Hotel was right across from the gas station. He lead the group across the street and into the Hotel that smelled like rotten pickles and hotdogs.

"It's hotter than me in here!" Nick said as they walked through the door. It was hot in there, but not hotter than Nick. "Now the evac's on that roof up there, so let's go." Nick touched the metal railing, and pulled away instantly. "Don't touch that railing! It's hot hot hot!"

"Who put's an evac station… up thirty flights… of goddamn stairs?" Coach complained, speaking in between pants, stopping on the third step to catch his breath.

"Maybe the helicopter… maybe it's made of chocolate. Heh. Heh heh." Nick giggled, running past him.

"Or maybe it's made of Keith…" Ellis said dreamily.

"Or maybe it's made of helicopters!" the girl called out happily.

Seven hours later, the group finally made it up the stairs. They saw a helicopter flying away, just as they stumbled through the door.

"It's made of chocolate!" Coach exclaimed. And it was made of chocolate. It was melting in the sun, leaving a small trail of chocolate behind it. Coach got on all fours, licking it up greedily, his man boobs just grazing the hard ground.

"Hey! Come back!" Ellis screamed after the chocolate helicopter, even though helicopters (especially chocolate ones) don't come back when you yell at them.

"He's not coming back! Men always do this to me! My poor little broken heart! Someone console me!" Nick said, dancing towards Ellis.

"Is now the best time?" Rochelle asked.

"Sorry Ro'. I guess these long, lonely winter nights are getting to me." Nick said, probably the only one who didn't hate Rochelle.

"I heard there's another evac station at the Ma-." Rochelle began, but was quickly interrupted by Ellis.

"Hey guys, there's an evac station at the Mall, I think. We might as well head up there!"

"Okay." Nick said, nodding.

"Alright, well let's head up there! C'mon," Coach said, beckoning to the group.

"Yes! Liberty Mall! I love malls, I do. This one time, me and my buddy Dave, we were at this mall in Atlanta, and there were these horses dancing for money and stuff-" Ellis started.

"Ellis, is now the best ti-?" Rochelle asked.

"Shuddup," Ellis snapped. "Damn it, now I can't even 'member the story I was gunna tell. You sure are something else." He said frowning angrily.

Coach walked over to a picnic table that was behind them, hoping maybe some cheeseburgers were on it. There was just four medical kits, four pistols, two axes, two crowbars, and an oversized wooden mallet.

"Everybody grab a weapon." Coach demanded. Coach grabbed an axe because he had more of a chance hurting himself with it, which would prove to Barbara he was tougher than her.

"I'm grabbin' a mallet." Ellis said, grabbing two pistols aswell.

"I'm grabbin' one pistol. I'm grabbin' another pistol. I have two pistols… dual pistols… double the trouble… twice the danger… two can be as bad as one… two pistols, one Nick… the three musketeers: me and my TWO pistols… akimbo assassin… two is better than one… deadly twins… " Coach walked away from Nick so he didn't have to listen to him anymore.

"Axe me a question, I da-" Rochelle began.

"Hey, Ro'? Might be time to shuddup, girl." Ellis said, still angry from being interrupted.

"Y'all should grab a health kit too," Coach said, picking up a health kit and held it to his back, and almost like magic, it stuck, no Velcro or anything.

Coach led the group back downstairs, the stairs creaking under his weight. They reached a blue door.

"It's baby-blue… like the colour of Keith's eyes…" Ellis said, sighing. Coach just shuddered.

"G'ready, who knows what's behind this door." Coach warned.

Nick kicked the door in a feeble attempt to open it, but it didn't budge.

"Oh-la-la! You need a big strong man to open a door for you!" Ellis said, strutting towards Nick. He heard him whisper 'see you tonight' in his scabby ear. Coach growled angrily. He didn't want no one touchin' his bobuddy.

Ellis head butted the door as hard as he could, and it flew open. What awaited them at the other side was terrifying.

There were people. Loads of people. But, their eyes were milky white and unseeing. Their hair was matted with grease and gore, and blood dripped down their chins. Several had large festering wounds, that didn't seem to affect them in the slightest. They resembled Rochelle, but more attractive.

"What are these things? SHOOT THEM! SHOOOOT THEEM!" Ellis shrieked, hiding behind Nick.

"Zombie!" Nick squealed throwing back a hand and smacking Rochelle in the face.

Coach whacked anything that was in his way with his axe, even the new survivor who just walked up to them. They paid no attention to the fact that Coach had just killed a man. Not infected or anything.

"We should really be searching these rooms." Nick said as Coach rushed them down the hall, screaming at them to shut up and keep moving. He was a monster, killing anything in his path.

"THIS PLACE IS ON FIRE!" Coach roared at Nick. "We have no time to stop!"

Coach led them down a hall, but before they could go down it, there was a large explosion, and fire busted out of the door, setting their path on fire.

"We have to find another way!" Nick cried.

"Oh, no we don't!" Coach hollered. He charged through the wall of fire, screaming. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Coach—no!" he heard Ellis scream.

He didn't care.

'This has to prove to Barbara I'm tougher then her!' Coach thought as the flames licked his soft, delicious skin.

Coach went flying out the other side of the fire, screaming.

"Coach, we can't afford to die running through fire! Wait for us at the other side, we'll meet you there!" Coach heard Nick scream over the roar of Coach and the fire.

Coach sat on the floor, waiting for the others to regroup with him. Suddenly, he heard loud, wracking coughs. He looked up from painting his fingernails to see a tall man, with tumors and green smoke floating off him. It had a long pink tongue hanging out of its mouth and what looked like tentacles growing from random places on his head. Before Coach could do anything, the tumor-y man's tongue shot forwards and wrapped around Coach, dragging him forward. It tightened it's hold and began to pound him with it's small claws.

"NO! NO, NO, NO! NO!" Coach squealed.

Coach had had enough. He grabbed the smokey-zombie's tongue with his large hands and squeezed as hard as he could.

"Heeee-whee!" The zombie coughed in pain as Coach ripped himself free from the zombie's grasp. It felt good for Coach to have his bare gut hang freely again, dripping with sweat and zombie drool.

Coach screamed unnecessarily as he picked up his axe and whacked the zombie to death. A cloud of green smoke floated above the dead body.

"Hmm, musta been a chain smokah. Yeea… smoker…" Coach said to himself. "I'ma call you a smoker!"

Coach sat back down like nothing happened and continued to do his nails.

"Oh poo, that big meanie head messed them up! I didn't even get to finish drying them!" Coach exclaimed, staring at his ruined nails.

After sitting there and sulking for twenty minutes, Coach decided to have some fun and fulfill his lifetime wish. He picked up the body of the dead smoker and held its hands.

"Care to dance, my love?" He asked the carcass hanging in his hands. He held it close to his chest, resting his head on its shoulder, whispering dirty things in its ear. They twirled and danced until he heard Ellis clear his throat awkwardly.

"Coach, put the body down and let's go. We found an elevator." Nick said.

Coach sighed and looked at the dead smoker. "You're so good at dancing. Goodbye for now, my love. I hope we meet again." Coach said, gently lowering the body to the floor. "Goodnight, my sweet prince." Coach planted a soft kiss on its cold lumpy forehead and caught up with the rest of his team.

"It's down here." Ellis explained, leading them towards the elevator. "Just around this corner… oh shit…" Ellis sighed, seeing a horde of zombies running towards them.

"Good thing I'm not wearing pants!" Coach said to himself, feeling his hot urine spill down his legs.

"Uh, Coach… that's not _your_ pee…" Nick said with a weak smile. Coach just grinned at him stupidly.

"You pissed on my pants too." Ellis said angrily, glaring at Nick.

After fighting the horde and cleaning Ellis up by force, the team finally got in the elevator.

"Man, this su-" Rochelle began.

"It's like some kinda _zombie_ nightmare or some shit… shit, shit, shit." Ellis complained, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead.

"Settle down, son." Coach said, touching Ellis's hair comfortingly. It was hard and curly…

'Like dry macaroni… smothered in butter… and salt… and mustard…' Coach thought, drooling. He was starving; he hadn't eaten in five minutes. Well, the bile jar he had found was more like a drink than food, so make that ten minutes. But it had had bits of chunks, so maybe it was more like soup. Either way, Coach was famished.

"Uh… Coach, what're you doin'?" Ellis asked cautiously.

Coach snapped out of his thoughts and realized he was gnawing on Ellis's hair, putting slobber all over the elevator.

"Cleaning yo hair, boy, what else?" Coach said, not wanting to admit he was thinking about food and started to eat his friends.

Ellis was about to say something, but then the elevator started filling with smoke. Then the lights went out, and it stopped moving. An alarm went off.

"Someone's gotta pry them doors open, y'all!" Coach exclaimed.

Rochelle walked over to the doors and put her tongue between it, prying it open.

"Let's go!" Nick cried, already running out the doors.

They all burst out of the elevator, tumbling over each other.

"Hey! Lookie what we got here!" Ellis said joyfully, his face mere inches away from a silenced submachine gun. He picked it up, but one remained on the ground still.

"What the Hell?" Nick gasped.

"I dunno, man! Grab one!"

The other three picked up submachine guns from the seemingly infinite pile of weapons.

"Come on, follow me!" Nick whined, wanting to lead the group for once. He darted forward, hip firing zombies that were in the way. For some reason, the guns had no recoil and perfect accuracy.

Nick continued to jog through the hotel, dodging fire, zombies, and Ellis' wandering hands.

"Mmm-mmm. Peach cobblah," Coach drooled. "I mean. Mmm. Fresh air!"

The group stood in what appeared to be a lobby. In front of them was a large heavy door.

"Hey look, what's that red door?" Nick asked.

"I heard 'bout these," Ellis said. "Itsa a safe house!" Ellis started running towards it, grinning.

Ellis was so transfixed with the safehouse that he didn't notice the large creature burst from the shadows and straight towards him.

"Ellis, watch out!" Nick screamed. It was too late. The big armed creature slammed into Ellis with an incredible force, sending both of them into a wall.

"Get him off!" Ellis screamed.

"Shit!" Nick cried, limping towards Ellis, shooting the big armed zombie. Coach just stood there. He couldn't bring himself to hurt such a beautiful creature.

Nick shot the charging zombie enough so it let go and ran away. Nick helped Ellis to his feet, and they both limped to the safe house where Rochelle was waiting. But no one really cared about her.

Coach stood there, looking for the sexy beast he had just encountered.

That night, Coach couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about the charging thing… the charger… that Nick had hurt so much. He wondered if it was alright, or if it was bleeding to death. He was sexy in a strange way, his overalls revealing just enough to turn Coach on, the way his bald head shone in the light of the fire, the passionate cry he let out before he attacked his victim. His unique gray skin, his big strong arm, his little gimpy arm… Coach knew it was wrong to think of a zombie this way, but he couldn't stop. He knew they were supposed to be killed. But that charger was anything Coach could ever want and everything he had ever dreamed of

'I need to find him.'

End of chapter 2.


	3. Learning to love again

I am the original author of 'Coaches in the Sky' but I forgot my password, so I am using this one.

Coaches in the Sky

Chapter 3

When Coach woke up the next morning he found his blankets wet and sticky.

"Musta been some sorta _mayonnaise _apocalypse!" Coach said to himself. He had fallen asleep to the sweet thoughts of the charger that had nearly killed Ellis. That was only one of the reasons he loved him, though. The charger had held and smashed Ellis into the ground so tenderly and passionately, Coach wanted to be the one in his rippling arm, to be held by that sex god through the cold, lonely nights.

"Hey Coach, we're gonna hit the road soon, so g'ready." Nick said, interrupting Coach's fantasy. Ellis was changing Nick's diaper; they had been like that since the group had gotten in the safe house. Coach was jealous. He wanted someone to change his diaper. Thoughts of that charger filled his mind followed by creamed corn.

Rochelle crawled out from under the rug they had put her under the night before.

"Yeah, but you all better-" she began, as if they would actually grant her the privilege of speaking to them.

"Hey, y'all betta heal!" Coach said, cutting Rochelle off. Rochelle stared down at her yellow, twisted toenails, salt and peppery tears falling from her crunchy eyes.

Coach tore the medical pack off of his bronzed back, ripping it from the Velcro that held it there. He was bleeding because the Velcro was attached to his gunky back hair. He took out some bandages and wrapped it around his ankle and forearm, even though his injuries were on his stomach and sides, but it worked just as well.

Meanwhile, Nick was healing Ellis. Some would say that he wasn't healing Ellis, he was more rubbing the medical pack all over his body while Ellis pissed himself in delight.

"Oh, Nick!" Ellis giggled loudly. "You so crazay! My nipples are burstin' in joy!"

"I know," Nick replied, wiggling his eyebrows and squeezing one of Ellis' nipples, causing it to explode in a mess of pus, blood and joy.

Ellis clapped his hands together, laughing and jumping in joy.

"Oh, Nicky-bear!" he said throwing his arms around Nick's shoulders.

"Y'all healed up?" Coach asked, lumbering over to a table by the barred door to grab another medical kit. He attached it to his back and groaned in pain as the Velcro pulled at his knotted back hair. The safe house was small, so they had all slept in a heap of sexiness, except for Rochelle, who slept under a rug in the corner. She was the least hurt of them all, because even zombies hated her. They didn't want to touch her.

Coach grabbed a pump shotgun in strong, ox-like hands. He attached that to his back as well, tying his back hair around it to make a make-shift holster.

"Everyone grab a gun." Nick said in his annoying nasally voice. Coach had different feelings for him since he saw the charger. Sexy feelings. He remembered all the nights of passion with Nick, and would never forget them, but he needed some more sugar. Some more spice. Some more nice.

"We r-" Rochelle started, but Ellis hit her in the back of the head with his mallet, silencing her putrid breath.

"We ready? Let's go." Ellis said, grabbing a submachine gun from the infinite pile of guns. He strolled up to the door, attempting to lift up the heavy bar. He put his hands on his hips and sighed, frustrated.

"Oh," he moaned dramatically, smacking the back of his hand to his forehead. "If only I had a big, strong, sexy man."

Nick began to approach Ellis, but was pushed into the wall by Coach.

"I don't mind if I do," Coach breathed seductively.

With a mighty roar, he thrust the bar from the door and threw it across the room, narrowly missing Rochelle's fat head.

"Thank you kindly, sir," Ellis drawled, clinging to Coach's bicep.

"No problem, little lady," Coach replied, patting Ellis' head.

"Alright, alright. Enough bullshit! Let's just go!" Nick said and pushed between Ellis and Coach, glaring all the while.

Coach, Ellis, and Rochelle followed Nick outside, guns at the ready.  
"Oh fiddle sticks! Look at all these big bad men!" Ellis yelled shrilly, hiding behind Nick.

"Don't worry baby, I'll protect you and your sweet ass," Nick said, puffing out his chest.

"Neeee-AHHHHHHHH!" Coach bellowed in fear, plowing into the horde of zombies and beating them with his gun, proving again that he was tougher than Barbara.

"Humper! HUMPER!" Ellis screamed, pointing at a small zombie wearing tight blue biking shorts, that showed it's attributes.

"Excuse me?" Nick growled, raising a wiggley eyebrow, clearly offended.

"Not you-" Ellis began, but his words were cut short when the little zombie stuck to his face, thrusting it's pelvis into his mouth. It dug it's small hands into Ellis' luscious hair, dragging him away from the group.

"Nick? Nick? Is that you? Get off! Get it off me!" he howled, still being led away.

"Oh God, Ellis!" Rochelle yelled, running towards him trying to shoot the small zombie off with a Nerf gun.

Just as she was about to reach him and smack the zombie off his face, a large shadowy figure leapt from the roof and pinned her to the ground. Sharp claws raked down her chest and stomach.

"Ellis!" Coach howled and ran on all fours like a bear, trying to reach him.

"Take me with you!" Nick yelled, and jumped onto Coach's back.

"Guys, come back! Help me! Help me!" Rochelle cried, watching as the two galloped away towards Ellis.

The pair finally reached the poor redneck. Nick vaulted himself off of Coach, and tackled the small zombie, wrestling it to the ground.

"Screw you, dickstain!" he growled smashing it's withered face into the pavement.

"Nick, Nick! Stop! He's already dead!" Coach cried, pulling him off the small, bloody corpse. He threw Nick to the side and crouched over the tiny form. "Goodnight, sweet Prince," he whispered into it's earhole.

"Oh baby, you're always getting in trouble!" Nick cried, crawling up to Ellis and stroking his bumpy face.

"You gotta be mo' carefu'!" Coach said over the sounds of Rochelle screaming and her skin ripping.

"We gotta save Rochelle, don't we?" Ellis asked, disappointed.

"Probably." Nick said, glancing at an almost dead Rochelle.

Ellis sighed dramatically and threw his hands into the air.

"Fine!" he screeched, and shot the zombie off of her.

The trio strolled leisurely towards Rochelle.

"Someone help me up!" Rochelle screamed as they walked past her. Nick sighed and dragged her to her feet, ignoring the gaping wounds all over her body.

"Ever hear of a thing called moisturiser?" Nick growled nastily.

Rochelle cried in anguish as she stared down at her peeling, dry skin.

"It's not my fault!" she insisted. "We were in a fire, how am I suppose-"

Nick waved dismissively, pulling his moisturiser out of his pocket and smearing it on his chest.

"We better get going." Ellis said, walking up to Nick and running a hand over his chest. "Smoooth," he remarked.

Coach rolled his eyes and began to walk down a small street decorated with green hedges. "FOLLUH ME!" he boomed, glancing behind his shoulder to the others.

Nick and Ellis were holding hands and skipping over to him with a joyful aura. Rochelle was dragging herself with her arms behind them, crying and leaving a trail of blood.

"You're so disgusting," Ellis said. "What gives you the right to leave yer blood everywhere? You make me sick."

Coach and the others approached a small building, and put his hand on the doorknob.

"Blargh!" Coach heard something gurgle. He froze, hand still on the doorknob.

"Yah hear that?" Coach asked.

Before anyone could reply, a fat zombie jumped out from the bushes and stood behind them, wiggling his stomach in a sexually charged manner.

The team stared at the zombie, bewildered. Then, without warning, the zombie opened it's mouth and blew it's nasty green chunks all over them.

"Oh, gross!" Nick cried.

"I can't see!" Coach exclaimed.

"It stinks! Kill it! Kill it!" Ellis was running in a circle, using his gun like a sword.

"Got it!" Rochelle said from her place on the ground, a smug grin appearing on her face.

The explosion from the fat zombie sent Coach backwards, smacking wetly against the wall.

"Bullshit! I got it," Nick growled, kicking her in the ribs. In reality, he had been using the gun to pick the lint out of his crack of doom.

Before Rochelle could argue or spit out more of her teeth, a loud chorus of cries filled the air.

"Aw shit, aw shit, aw shit. Look what you went and did, Rofelle!" Ellis said, still running in a circle.

"My name isn-"

"Shuddup."

Coach tried to rub the bile out of his eyes, and amongst the cries of common infected he heard the most beautiful sound in the entire universe.

"RUHNRRR!" It cried. It was a charger. Not just any charger, but _the _charger. It looked at Coach for a brief second before charging. Not into Coach, but into the oncoming zombies.

"He's perfect..." Coach sighed dreamily.

The charger glanced at Coach once more, and charged towards him.

"Shit! No!" Coach hollered. As the charger's big hand wrapped around Coach's body and carried him away, Coach realized he wasn't special.

'This charger isn't the one...' Coach thought sadly. 'He's going to kill me!'

The charger carried him away from the horde, away from his teammates, ran over the fence, and carried him behind a tent.

"Where are you taking me?" Coach asked the charger, and didn't expect a response. He noticed the charger hadn't started bashing him into the ground yet.

Before he knew it the charger was leaning in, puckering his lips as if he had just ate a bad lemon.

"Oh, charger!" Coach cried happily as the charger's lips met his, creating sparks and catching the tent on fire.

"I love you, Coach. Coach. Coach!" The charger said. He kept repeating his name. In Ellis' voice for some reason.

"I love you Coach, Coach, Coach, Coach. Get up! Coach, Coach, Coach! Coach, Coach, Coach, bear my children!" Ellis cried.

Coach sat up, confused. There was no fire. More importantly, there was no charger, either.

"Huh? What? What happened? How did I get so sticky?" Coach blurted out, confused.

"You've been out for a while." Ellis said. "It reminds me of the time me and my buddy Keith wanted to spice things up in the bedro-"

"Ellis, sweetie, is now-" Rochelle started, cutting Ellis off.

"Shut up Rochelle! Ellis, sweetie, can this wait?" Coach said, interrupting Rochelle, yet again.

"Okay." Ellis said.

"Now tell me, what's going on?" Coach demanded.

"Well, when Rochelle killed that boomer-" Nick started.

"Boomah?" Coach asked.

"Yeah, that's his name. Isn't it soo cey-ute! It's the fat guy. But when she killed it, it exploded. It sent you backwards and you hit your head on the ground. _Hard._ So we used Rochelle as a sled to drag you here, a gun store._" _Nick explained.

Coach was disappointed. The charger never kissed him. The tent never burned down. Coach got up and looked around. The walls were covered in all sorts of different guns, deer heads, and naked ladies. He approached the wall and grabbed an automatic shotgun and a naked lady picture.

He turned around and walked towards Nick and Ellis, who were standing by a pile of ammo, tickling each other's ears.

"Careful when you go out there, we've been hearin' a chargin' guy for a while." Ellis said, gesturing to a door.

"And we've been hearing a sexy redneck looking for love..." Nick said to Ellis. Nick spit in his hand and ran his hand through his hair.

"It's a charger!" Coach said defensively. He found it strange that he loved this charger without meeting him. But found it surprisingly easy.

"Hey guys!" Rochelle cried.

"WHAT?" Ellis snapped.

"I just talked with the gun shop owner! He said he'll blow up that truck in our way if we get him some cola." Rochelle explained.

"Daayyyum, I want me some cola! And noodles! Oodles of noodles!" Coach exclaimed, salivating all over his sticky rippling body, and onto the delicious tile flooring.

Nick brought his hand to his face and sighed, trying to avert his eyes.

The team walked up the stairs and looked down at the convience store. There were no zombies in sight, not even a charger.

"Alright," Nick said clapping his hands together. "Here's the plan. Rochelle, you get the cola. Meanwhile we'll stay here and play some strip poker."

"What?" Rochelle exclaimed. "Why me? I'm going to need help down there!"

"Yeah? Well you should have thought of that before you volunteered us to go get that idiot's cola. Now, go on."

"I can't do it alone." Rochelle said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Oh my _God._ Fine! We'll come with you. God, I don't know why I ever liked you."

With that, the four survivors leapt over a hedge and went towards the store.

"Alrighty," Ellis said. "Rochelle and Coach, you go get the cola. Me and Nick will stay out here, and, uh... Guard the doors..."

Nick brought his hand to his mouth and giggled. "Go on guys, we got this."

Sighing, Coach smashed open the door, sending glass flying everywhere. A loud alarm pierced the quiet of the parking lot.

"Damn it!" Coach yelled and barrelled into the store.

"Coach, you could have just opened the door!" Rochelle cried, limping behind him.

"I don't care! I gotta prove I'm the toughest!" he yelled and ran to the back of the store.

"I'm the toughest, I'm the toughest, I'm the toughest," he whispered to himself standing above the cola.

"Get the cola, Rochelle!"

"You get it, your right there!" she yelled back.

"Grab the cola!" he said raising a fist.

Rochelle limped towards Coach and picked up the cola. "Grabbin' cola," she said meekly.

"That's what I damn thought," Coach said. "My arms are too weak to pick up some damn cola."

That was a lie. Though Coach didn't want anyone to know, least of all Rochelle, he wouldn't be able to control himself around the cola. He could just imagine the cold feeling of the slender bottle in his hands, the delicious fizzy substance, the smooth sexy...

"Coach what the- Get off!" Rochelle gasped in horror.

Coach snapped back to reality and realized he had been sucking on the unopened cola bottle.

"Oh, uh... I was just... Tightenin' the cap... Yeah."

"Right..." Rochelle said slowly and limped towards the exit.

Coach ran a hand down his face and straightened up. He shook his head vigorously.

"Getcha head in the game, Coach. Gotta getcha, getcha head in the game." He said to himself, quoting his favourite movie.

Rochelle and Coach burst out of the store, and saw Ellis grinding against Nick's face.

"What are you looking at? Go put the cola in the slot!" Nick barked, pointing towards the gun store.

Rochelle ran ahead of Coach, and chucked the cola up to the lot above them so she could shoot.

"Come on guys, cover me!" she pleaded, trying to beat the zombies that were swarming around her off.

Ellis looked up from Nick and rolled his eyes. "You're so goddamn needy," he huffed. He then brought a lighter out from behind Nick's ear and lit a Molotov.

"Ellis, don't you even thi-" Rochelle began, her eyes widening in horror.

The whorish redneck shrugged his shoulders and chucked it towards Rochelle, igniting her and the zombies surrounding her. She screamed loudly and ran into a puddle, flopping around trying to douse the flames.

"Coach!" Nick shouted. "You have to put the cola in the slot! Go!"

Coach looked up from eating a zombie, juicy eyes widening in fear. The eye juice ran down his face, marinating the zombie's arm.

"Ruh-roh!" Coach yelped.

He got back on all fours and leapt the fence. He crouched above the cola, lapping up the spilled soft drink with his salty, cow-like tongue.

Suddenly, he heard a loud, hacking cough. He perked one of his ears, trying to locate the sound.

"Oh snap!" Coach cried as the long, slippery tongue wrapped around his stomach. He struggled to gnaw through it, but his teeth weren't strong because despite what he thought, he wasn't a dog. No one noticed. Well, at least that's what he thought. Coach felt a large hand wrap around him, it was crusty and clammy, and picked him up gently, freeing him from the smoker's tongue.

"Please, don't be a dream!" Coach said to himself as he looked into the beautiful, tiny white bloodshot eyes of the charger. A small gooey strand fell from the eye and into Coach's eye. But as far as he was concerned, it had fallen into his heart.

"Thank you for this," Coach whispered, licking his face to devour the eye goo.

The charger snorted and he ran off, clutching Coach in his loving grasp. He dashed towards the truck, lovingly using Coach to swat away any zombies in their path.

"Where are you taking me?" Coach asked. "Who are you?" He could have swore he heard the charger grunt something like 'whoever you want me to be.' Then again, Coach _was _criminally insane.

Just as they were about to fully disappear, Coach heard Nick's nasally cry.

"Charger's got Coach!"

"Ruu nrr acck barrr." The charger said softly, comfortingly. He always knew just what to say.

The charger carried him through a parking lot, passing tents that said CEDA. Coach saw a familiar red door.

"Safe house!" Coach cried.

The charger carried him into the safe house. He sat down in a corner with Coach in his big scabby arm, and stroked his sweaty forehead with his tongue. Coach caressed the charger's rough cheek lovingly.

'My first love...' Coach thought. Well, besides Barbara, but she was dead so it didn't really count.

"What's your name...? I want to spend my life with you." Coach whispered softly.

"Murr." The charger replied.

"How can I love you if I don't know your name?" Coach asked rhetorically.

"MURR! _MUUURRRRR!" _

Then Coach had the brightest idea he has ever had. Coach reached inside the charger's pocket on his greasy, dirty, smelly overalls. He felt around in his pocket for a while, touching all the wrong (or maybe right) places, making them both giggle. Eventually Coach found the small leather wallet he was searching for. He opened it and dumped the contents on the floor. He found the charger's driver license, keychain that read 'Mom', change, and jolly ranchers.

"Iqbal Zardari..." Coach read aloud. "That's such a beautiful name!" There was a brief silence, and Iqbal kept licking Coach's face with his massive cow-like parasite ridden tongue. "I-I think I'm falling for you." Coach said, looking in Iqbal's dead eyes.

"Mananana. Mananana." Iqbal said.

Then Coach heard the familiar sound of Nick's nasally voice.

"I'm gonna kill that charger, and then make sweet, sweet love to Coach on top of it's body." He heard Nick say.

"ONTA ZTAP!" Iqbal exclaimed, standing up with Coach in his big, poop-like arm.

Before Coach could say anything, Iqbal ran out of the other safe house door. No zombies attacked them as they ran through the mall. Iqbal still carried big ol' loveable Coach. They stopped inside a store that was near the back of the mall. It had tinted windows and all the lights inside were dimmed and red. The store was called XXX-citement. Iqbal held him there, stroking his neck rolls and licking his face.

"I love you Iqbal." Coach said after a long silence. Coach knew he shouldn't be telling someone he loved them so soon, but ever since the smoker died he had been so vulnerable. He needed another man to fill that void in his heart. But Coach thought he really did love him, for risking his life to be with him, and not bashing him into the ground repeatedly until he died.

Coach looked around the room, and smiled. There were pictures of naked men everywhere, and there were movies and blow-up dolls of Inspector Gadget. It got him in the mood. He never considered himself gay, but maybe he would after this apocalypse. Like they say, 'surviving an apocalypse makes you gay'.

Coach kissed Iqbal, caressing his cold, smelly gray face.

"TAKE ME, IQBAL!" Coach screamed, peeling off Iqbal's crusty overalls that stuck to his skin. In fact, he might have peeled some skin along with it.

Coach untied his blanket-cape, still making out with Iqbal.

Coach smiled to himself. 'Maybe sleeping with a charger will prove I'm tougher than Barbara.'

Nick paced back and forth in the safe house. Nick, Ellis and—unfortunately-Rochelle had all made it to the safe house safe, but were worrying about Coach. The last they had seen of him was when he was way back by the Save 4 Less store, being carried away by the most wicked, yet most handsome charger he had ever seen. He was one hot piece of ass.

"I'm a find a shirt jus' like my old one once we get through that mall!" Ellis chirped happily. Nick remembered his old shirt; it said 'Bull Riders – I'm a ride you like a bull.' "Nick muffins, are you okay?" Ellis asked, concerned.

"No, I'm not! The only man I've ever loved was kidnapped by a charger, who is sexier than me, and he might leave me for him!" Nick cried.

Ellis cringed at his words, tears spilling out of his eyes. He looked at Nick, devastated. "I thought you loved me." Ellis said, crying.

Nick backhanded Ellis. "WE GOTTA FIND COOOOOOOOOOAAAACH!"

Coach was almost done with Iqbal. He didn't stop when he heard voices, thinking it was the Toy Story dildo collection going off again.

"I have a feeling where Coach might have gone." Nick said, less angry. He stopped the group outside the door.

"Umm, Nick. This is a gay erotica store." Ellis said. "I would know, 'cause one time me and my buddy Keith came here when his uncle was-"

"Ellis-" Rochelle started, but decided it would be better just not to talk, because they always told her to shut up anyway.

"That's what I thought." Ellis said, glaring at her.

Nick led them inside the store, to see an unSEXpected surprise. They couldn't believe their eyes.

Coach froze, and realized that wasn't the voice of Buzz Lightyear. He turned around to see Nick, Ellis and Rochelle staring at him and Iqbal. Nick reached for his gun...

End of Chapter 3


	4. Misery Loves Company

"Bobuddy—_NO!"_ Coach screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.

"AIYEE!" Nick screeched, firing his shotgun again and again, just missing the pile of filth which Coach and Iqbal were laying in.

"To infinity, and beyond!" The Buzz Lightyear dildo collection cried out in unison for the final time.

"They never worked anyway... Extra girth my sexy ass. Now for you, man stealer!" Nick snarled, whirling his gun towards Iqbal.

"NO! Nick, wait!" Coach yelled, rolling in front of Iqbal. Iqbal was sweating and trembling in fear. Small beads of sweat rolled off the tips of his quivering nipples as he sobbed in sorrowful sadness.

"Make it fast, or I blow Rochelle's brains out." He hissed, holding the gun to Rochelle's head, full of lice and scalp grease. The gun almost slid in all the gunky, wet grease, but Nick somehow managed to hold it steady.

"Coach, no!" Rochelle sobbed.

Coach looked towards Rochelle, and shrugged indifferently.

"I'm alright with this." Coach said.

"Guys!" Rochelle whined.

"Way to ruin the moment, jerk." Ellis snapped.

"Well, before Rochelle ruined everything, I was going to say, I love you. But I love Iqbal more. We had some good times, but that was in the past." Coach sighed.

Nick nodded for him to continue.

"You know," Coach said with a smile playing on his disgusting, cracking, red gooey lips. "When I first met you, you reminded me of a stripper I saw in Vegas once."

"Coach! I _was _that stripper in Vegas!" Nick exclaimed.

"Remember the bucket? The ear skin? Oh, with the extension cord!" Coach asked.

"Yeah! And the sword!"

Ellis and Iqbal exchanged confused looks.

"I still want this... zombie _gone."_ Nick hissed once again. "He has five seconds."

"RUN, IQBAL, RUN!" Coach hollered, smacking Iqbal on the ass.

Iqbal shrieked in fright and arousal, and dashed out of the store, making squeaky noises with each step.

"Put on some clothes," Ellis said, half-heartedly covering his eyes.

Coach tied the blanket back around his neck.

"Much better, I'll take it off later." Ellis said with a wink. Green crust slowly fell from his eye to the floor like dry snow.

Coach was surprised when he felt something like piss falling out of his eyes.

"Oh, Hell, I know I ain't crying! I'm the toughest!" Coach said, smashing himself in the face.

"I'm sorry C-"

"Look, just because I'm having a bad day doesn't mean I like you all of a sudden. Screw off, Rochelle." Coach snapped.

"Coach. We can't lug around a charger. It's going to kill us." Ellis said putting a sympathetic hand on Coach's neck rolls. He stroked them lovingly, and they purred and trembled in delight.

"Iqbal is different! He is like the prince charming I have been waiting for since I was a little girl!" Coach argued.

"I don't want to hear about this Iqbal guy anymore. If I see him, I shoot him. If I hear him, I shoot him. If I taste him, I eat him. Then shoot him." Nick said, sauntering ahead of everyone with a sexy gait.

"Spitter!" Rochelle yelled, pointing a finger and firing her gun at the same time, so she didn't accomplish much.

"Are you gonna cheat on me with that Spitter, too?" Nick asked Coach cruelly, cutting the Spitter apart with his face.

"But you guys only knew each other for like two days! You hardly even talked to each other!" Rochelle cried.

"SHUT UP!" The three men yelled in unison.

The rest of the walk was silence.

"Oh, Iqbal, how I miss you..." Coach sighed to himself as he beat a charger to death with a frying pan in the most humane way possible. Just in case he was watching.

"I HATE YOU!" Nick screamed suddenly, and threw his weapon to the ground, causing everyone to jump.

Nick ran back down the escalator they were climbing with tears in his eyes, and out of sight.

"Nick come..." Rochelle started. She waited for someone to cut her off. "...back..."

Ellis shot her a glare.

"Come back, sugar muffin!" Ellis whined, hurrying after him.

"No... It's all my fault..." Coach gasped, clutching his hands over his heart.

"He's gone." Rochelle said mournfully, staring at the horizon where Nick had fled.

Coach collapsed to his knees, nearly shattering them. "Niiiiiiiick!" He cried into the sky. "Return to me, my love!"

"Come on Coach, we need to go find them," Rochelle said, extending her warty hand to Coach.

"Don't touch me, you witch!" Coach hissed, laying on his back and swatting at her hand with his feet.

Rochelle recoiled, smelly tears falling from her dry eyes. She could hardly see through the liquid and the green stink fumes.

"Stop crying, you filthy animal! We need to find Nick. And Ellis, too," Coach said rolling down the stairs towards the smell of Ellis' perfume. "He can't be far off; I'd recognize that lettuce scented Wal-Mart perfume anywhere."

Coach and Rochelle traveled all through the mall in silence, trying to sniff out Ellis and Nick.

"Look," Rochelle yelled, "Is that him?"

She pointed towards a small naked ball in the middle of the mall fountain.

"Ellis!" Coach cried, running over to the fountain and peering inside.

It was Ellis. And he was trapped in the fountain.

"Help me, Coach!" He gargled, swatting at the water. "I can't get through! The water is too thick! Help me!"

"I'm a coming, boy! Hang in there!" Coach said, trying to plunge his hand into the water and pull out Ellis, but it was, indeed, too thick. "I can't! This water is like ice or something!"

"Coach, you have to save him!" Rochelle said, hyperventilating on the floor.

"I'm trying; I don't see you doing anything!"

Then, suddenly he heard Nick's voice in his head.

"Just follow your stomach, Coach. Follow your stomach~"

"You're right, Nick! I just need to follow my stomach!" Coach exclaimed.

"What the Hell are you talking about?" Rochelle cried out, bewildered.

"Back off Rochelle, give me some room!" Coach said, running towards Rochelle and kicking her across the floor.

"I'm coming!" Coach said and plunged his face into the water.

He began lapping up the water with his tongue, taking huge gulps.

"You can do this," he said to himself. "You've drank bigger fountains than this!"

"HUUUEHHWWWEEEHH!" Ellis gasped, inhaling the sweet, delicious oxygen. He flung back his hair, splashing water everywhere. "Thank you, Coach!" I ain't never seen no one drink an entire fountain before! I didn't know a man could take that much liquid! Well, actually, there was this one time, me and my buddy Keith, we was trying ta break the world record for most-"

"Sssh, don't talk." Coach said picking up Ellis like he was a ragdoll and holding him to his chest. He patted his hair comfortingly with his bright red cow tongue.

Coach's mind wandered to dead, decaying cows on a frying pan, about to be made into a juicy burger for Coach to cram in his food hole...

"OH, GOD! COACH! STOP! HELP! HE'S EATING ME! PLEASE!" Ellis begged.

"COACH! OH MY GOD! LET HIM GO!"

Coach growled and snapped back into reality, turns out the hamburger he crammed in his mouth was actually half of Ellis' face. His beautiful face.

Coach swallowed what he bit off, because you never let a good meal go to waste.

Ellis screamed in terror and clutched his face; blood seeped from in between his fingers. A flap of skin was hanging loosely and fluttering in the wind. Ellis vomited from the pain.

"OH GOD! SHIT! COACH, WHAT THE HELL?"

Coach puckered his thin, bloody lips and kissed the wound, but nothing happened.

"Sorry folks, crazy stuff happens to me during a full moon." Coach whispered seductively.

"S'alright." Ellis muttered hoarsely.

"Here, lemme patch you up," muttered Rochelle, and wrapped some duct tape around Ellis' head.

"Tha.. Than..." Ellis stammered, staring at Rochelle. He shook his head quickly. "I mean... Go ta Hell."

"Let's get moving, into action," Coach instructed and led everyone onwards through the mall.

They staggered blindly through the mall for hours. Or at least, Coach did. He had blindfolded himself to prove he was tougher than Barbara. The others had to follow behind them, for if they didn't they would feel the wrath of Coach's mighty fist.

Coach continued to wave his arms wildly. He trusted his hands more than his eyes because like he always said "you can pick up food with your hands better than your eyes". Coach had tried to pick up spaghetti with his eyes once. He had been in a coma for 4 months.

"Oooh, boy! I think I got him!" Coach bellowed, grasping something that was slimy like Jell-o and rough like sandpaper. "I would recognize your gorgeous skin anywhere, Nick."

Ellis and Rochelle stood and stared in awe as they watched Coach rub the roof of a zombie's mouth. The zombie was shocked as well, but not shocked long enough. It let out an ungodly yowl and chomped down on Coach's hand as hard as it could muster.

"Mmm mmm MMMM. Nick! You sure _are _a frisky little kitty cat! Kitty's got claws, meow!" Coach said in a raunchy, ranchy dressing voice.

Ellis could feel rage and jealousy burning up inside him. "No one touches my man!" he snarled and hurtled himself feet first towards the zombies. He wrapped his legs around the zombie's neck and snapped it, only after humping its face a few times to show it who the boss was.

"Nick!" Coach howled and fell to his knees, feeling the floor all around him. He felt all over the zombie's face with his fat fingers and gasped in horror.

"This isn't Nick at all!" he gasped. "It'sa... It'sa..."

"Zombie?" Rochelle offered.

"No, you flabby bellied whipper snipper! It's an imposter!"

Rochelle turned away from Coach, and cried silently.

Ellis raised his hand to smack the tears out of Rochelle's eyes, and Coach opened his mouth to snack the tears out of Rochelle's eyes. But before they could, they heard a curious wheezing noise.

Ellis and Coach froze and looked at each other.

"Nick!" they yelled, and began to run towards the noise.

"Guys!" Rochelle yelled hurrying after them. "We can't just run towards every wheezing noise we hear!"

"We have to try!" Coach said determinedly.

They galloped towards the source of the wheezing noise. It had leaded them to Great Huge Johnson's Plastic Rings and Bag Emporium. There, they found a horrible sight.

It was Nick. He had his neck caught in one of the plastic rings used to hold cans of Pepsi. He gasped and choked, his face was a violent shade of purple. Empty cans of Pepsi were strewn all around him. He flopped around like a dolphin, tears streaming from his majestic eyes.

"Oh... My sweet little angel..." Ellis whispered mournfully. He crouched beside Nick and ran his hand through Nick's greasy hair. Ellis looked up at Coach, tears in his eyes.

"You have to do something." he choked.

"I'll try." Coach replied and crouched next to Nick.

Nick looked at Coach, his eyes darting wildly. Pleadingly.

"Now you just hold still, Bobuddy." Coach said, trying to calm the choking man. He lowered his nose above Nick's neck and inhaled sharply. "Ah. I see." he muttered.

Coach began to bite off and swallow the plastic that was around Nick's neck. His teeth began to bleed and crack, but that just made him hungrier for justice. He ate off the plastic that was choking Nick, and he ate the rest of the plastic ring just to prove he was the toughest.

Nick choked, his lungs unaccustomed to the generous amount of air that he was now receiving. He sat on the floor for an hour, wheezing and coughing. He had only been out of breath for 2 minutes, but he liked being overdramatic.

"Christ," he muttered, and spat out the teeth that had fallen out of Coach's mouth and into his.

"Oh, Nickypoo!" Ellis cried, throwing his arms around Nick's neck.

Nick licked Ellis' salty ear and murmured something the others couldn't hear, but it was something undeniably sexy.

"Aw Nick," Ellis blushed. "That reminds me of the time, me an' my buddy Keith, we was at the bar, and there was like all these tractors dancin' fer, like, money and stuff, and Keith was pretty sure that he could beat one in a wrestlin' match, but tractors don't have no arms so to make it fair Keith decided to-"

Nick put his toe over Ellis' sweet and sour lips and hushed him.

They group stood there for a minute in awkward silence. Ellis looked around, clearing his throat. Suddenly his eyes widened in delight.

"Oh man!" he shouted in glee. "A toy store!"

"Ellis! Wait!" Nick cried, trying to grab his hair.

But Ellis was already in the toy store. He touched everything with his grimy hands, tearing through boxes and flinging cute giraffe plushies everywhere.

"Don't hurt them!" Coach cried, catching the giraffes. He brought one to his chest and kissed the top of its mouldy head.

"Don't break anything either," Nick snapped. "You break it you buy it, and I don't have a lot of money on me."

"Nick, I don't really think money matters anymo-" Rochelle began.

"Rochelle, you just shut yer fat face! Tellin' Nick how to spend his money, you make me so goddamn sick. You're just mad 'cause you don't get anything! Well guess what! You got a toy last time! You're just mad that Nick likes me better! I wish you were never born! I could just-"Ellis stopped abruptly when he noticed everyone staring at him in stunned silence.

"Ellis..." Nick began hesitantly.

"I know... I know, I'm awful sorry. I shouldn't rub it in Rochelle's face that everyone likes me better."

"That's right." Coach said proudly, and patted Ellis on the head. "Now you go play with your toys, son."

Ellis beamed radiantly and continued tossing giraffe plushies throughout the store.

Coach and Nick and been conversing when they were suddenly interrupted by the sound of shattering glass, followed shortly by a shrill alarm.

"Oh, God! Ellis!" Nick yelled. "How could you throw _the _limited edition lead giraffe plushie! I've been searching for that my entire life!"

"More importantly, you just triggered an alarm! All the infected for miles are going to be on our asses!" Rochelle snapped.

"Shut up, Rochelle!" Coach snarled. "He's angered the mall gods! Listen!"

The shrill alarm was joined by a chorus of angry howling.

"Run!" Coach screamed, and grabbed Ellis by the hand.

Coach charged a hole through the glass window, the others following closely behind.

"Up those stairs!" Rochelle yelled, pointing ahead of them. "Go!"

They were halfway up the stairs when they heard Ellis gasp in horror.

"Where's Nick?" he sobbed.

Coach whirled his head around, searching the zombie-filled floor below them.

"There he is!" Coach boomed.

Nick was almost to the stairs. He was huffing and puffing, struggling to move. He seemed to be weighed down by something...

"For Christ's sake!" Rochelle screamed. "Nick! Drop that giraffe!"

"But- but. It's the limited edition lead-"

"Exactly! _Lead._ Drop that stupid thing!"

"He's not stupid! He knows three tricks!" Nick protested.

Nick faced a difficult choice. He could either die alone with the giraffe, or live alone without the giraffe. He began to sob violently. The infected swarmed around him, biting and striking him, eager to kill.

"I don't know!" he cried in pain in confusion. "I-I-"

Nick was interrupted by an earth shattering roar. The ground trembled beneath the survivors. Ellis peed on the stairs, his urine spilled down it like a waterfall. They were witnessing the largest zombie any of them had ever seen.

"I told ya'll The Incredible Hulk was my dad! Ya'll said he wasn't real!" Ellis howled.

Nick snapped his head up at the sound of his lover's voice and the smell of his urine. He turned back to the limited edition lead giraffe plushie, and then to Ellis again. He realized that he wouldn't be able to go to roller discos with the giraffe like he could with Ellis.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered, and kissed it for the final time. He gave it a ring from his finger from his first marriage as a memento, and without further goodbyes, he dashed off towards the others.

Ellis grasped Nick's hand tightly and the pair ran up the stairs after Coach and Rochelle. Rochelle was clinging to Coach's stomach. She hoped with all her heart he wouldn't notice and throw her to the zombies.

A chunk of concrete narrowly missed Coach's head.

"We needa get outta the open! Follow me!" he cried and ran into a room.

In the room there were several shotguns, a closet, and a control panel.

"Hey, I think that's the controls to shut off this alarm!" Rochelle said happily.

"Shuddup, Rochelle! We don't got time to listen to you! Keep running!" Ellis barked.

Rochelle died inside as they ran past the controls and out of the room, the alarm still wailing.

They ran and ran until they reached a broken down escalator.

Rochelle jumped off Coach's stomach and clambered up the stairs, followed closely by Nick and Ellis.

"I see a saferoom over there!" Nick shouted. "C'mon Coach!"

Coach stood dumbly on the bottom of the escalator.

"I can't! It's broken ya'll!"

Tears streamed down Coach's glistening face, as he realized that if the escalator didn't fix, he would never make it to the top. He choked back a fresh wave of tears as he was reminded of how when he was a li'l peanut he wanted to be the top of Broadway. His father had told him he was stupid and fat and he never pursued his dreams.

"I gotta bop bop bop, bop to the top!" Coach howled in determination and, mustering all his strength, climbed the broken escalator. He could almost feel the zombie's hot breath on his ass, but that could have been Nick.

He roared and picked Ellis, Nick, and Rochelle up under his arms. He dashed into the safehouse and threw everyone into a pile. Nick jumped up and brushed himself off while Rochelle closed the door.

"That thing'll never break down that door with that bar on it!" Ellis said, accomplished.

Coach collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. "We did it ya'll," he panted.

Nick stood in front of the door, peering into the dim mall. His lip trembling and his eyes were flooding with tears.

Ellis approached him cautiously. "What's wrong, buddy?" he asked placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing!" Nick snapped. "Go away!"

"Nick, I..." Ellis began, pulling his hand back as if he had been burned.

"I'm sorry, baby." Nick sighed. "I just... That giraffe..." his voice cracked at the last word, and he bit his lip. He avoided Ellis' eyes. He didn't want Ellis to see him cry.

"We can get you a new one," Ellis offered. All he wanted was to see Nick's beautiful smile back on his face where it belonged. He wanted Nick's beautiful lips on his own, where they belonged.

"I don't want a new one! I wanted that one! The limited... My whole life. I..."

"Son, just leave the man be. He's grieving, don't you see?" Coach pulled Ellis gently to the side.

Rochelle couldn't believe the ridiculousness of the situation. She smashed her face against the wall until she passed out.

Nick stared at the door for hours. Zombies were pounding on the metal bars, and the big one was chucking chunks of concrete. The door stood strong. The alarm had stopped about an hour ago, but no one had noticed.

Rochelle was still passed out, and Coach was sleeping on his side. His arms and legs were jerking as if he were running.

"Look," Ellis said, turning Nick's head. He didn't go to sleep until Nick did. He couldn't sleep without his glorious queen. "He's dreaming."

Nick's cold demeanour melted, and he smiled. He walked towards Coach and crouched down, making cooing noises.

"Hey, Ellis..." Nick began.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for, you know. Cheering me up and crap. I'm sorry I snapped at you, I know we can get a new giraffe..."

"It's okay," Ellis smiled.

"No, it's not okay. Snapping at you is like killing a unicorn or drowning a kitten. It's not right, but it makes you feel good at the time."

Ellis lay down with Nick and put his head on his legs. He could feel something poking into his ear through Nick's pants.

"Nick, is that a cucumber in your pocket or you just happy to see me?"

"A little bit of both." Nick winked.

That night Nick and Ellis made sweet love for the third time, and for the first time they made it on Rochelle.

End of chapter four.


	5. This Turbulence is Beautiful

Rochelle rolled around uncomfortably. She was covered in what seemed to be hair and gritty, sandy dirt. It reminded of her of when she was a little girl and her dog would sleep in her bed after going to the beach. The dog had been affectionately named Potato Safari after a long night of drunken rambling.

"Ugh, Potato Safari… Get outta my bed…" Rochelle muttered sleepily.

Coach jolted into a sitting position. "Potato? Mmm, boy! Do I smell some potatoes? Who said potatoes? I love potatoes!"

"No, Coach, there ain't any potatoes here. Just that drunk bitch ramblin' again. She is just so intolerable." Ellis drawled, looking up from Nick's hair. Ellis loved to braid, pet, and comb Nick's glorious and successful mane.

Rochelle looked at him, taken aback. She felt hurt, but knew better than to say anything because of her irrational fear of being gang-beat by three large men.

"Sorry, Coach. I think I was having a dream."

"Oh, little boy lady! Don't you worry about it. I know all about them food dreams. Always creeping up at the least appropriate times, if you know what I mean." Said Coach, glancing towards Ellis' bleeding inner thigh. Coach tried to wink at him, but all he could manage was to twitch his eyes several times. It made the sound of a junebug hitting a window.

Ellis tried to vomit; put there was nothing left to vomit after last night.

"Uhh… What is all this stuff on me?" Rochelle murmured, brushing several small, black hairs off the front of her t-shirt. They were bristly like bear pubes.

"Oh, sorry Ro'. Those are mine." Nick admitted. He ran his hand through his hair and held it up to Rochelle. "See? It's just my hair."

"He's a shedder!" joked Ellis, and elbowed Nick in the ribs. Mucus shot out of Nick's nostrils like a demented fire hose.

"I'm a shedder too!" Coach said excitedly.

"No you ain't! You don't even have any hair!" Ellis shouted, pressing his chest against Coach's tender bosom.

"I am so! You don't only shed head hair!"

Coach paused for a moment while everyone stared in horror.

"What? I shed my nose hair too!" Coach announced. He put a finger over a nostril and blew out. Piles of hair shot out and scattered onto the floor.

Nick dove into a pile, letting the nose hair caress and bathe him. It swam in and out of his own nose. He sighed in happiness.

"No! You are so dumb!" Ellis yelled, ignoring Nick. "You need that hair to breathe! It's like what gills do for fish!"

"I don't need to breathe! I'm the toughest!" Coach hissed, and a misty spray of spittle landed gently on Ellis' face. Ellis shuddered in arousal and tilted his head back moaning.

"You can't distract me! I-OHMIGOD! It's Jimmy Gibbs!" Ellis ran towards a poster on the wall, wading through the hair and mucus on the safe room's floor.

"Gimmy Jibbs? I love that guy! I got all his albums! Even the new stuff that ain't no good!" Nick cheered.

"What are you going on about Nick?" Coach screamed wildly, his eyes oozing from their sockets. "Quit trying to impress Ellis! Everyone knows that Jimmy Gibbs is the world renowned school bus driver!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Ellis added excitedly. "He once drove an _entire _busload of children off a dock! And due to a mistake in court, he never got caught." he added proudly.

Ellis flattened himself against the wall and flicked his tongue all over the poster of his hero.

"Oh, Jimmy," he whispered in a low voice. "The things I would do ta you."

"WOO-OOO-OOOOO!" Coach bellowed in ecstasy, pounding his cloven hooves onto the concrete floor. A spray of poop left his great buttocks and painted the walls a sexy shade of red and brown.

Meanwhile, Rochelle stood by the door crying. She had fought off three hordes of zombies they had somehow attracted in the past ten minutes.

"Guys!'" she yelled trying to get their attention. "Guys!"

They paid her no mind. Ellis and Nick were locked in a ferocious battle of "suck-each-other's- face" and Coach was looking at the ceiling howling his brave heart out. His heart jumped out of his mouth and started to scream too.

"Listen!" Rochelle screamed, and fired a spray of bullets at Nick's feet.

"Woo!" Nick exclaimed and danced around over them. He danced towards Rochelle and towards the door. He danced right out of sight. The only sign that he was still in existence was the loud stamps of his feet and his faint scream of "woooo". It eventually faded away, just like Rochelle's faith in humankind.

Coach and Ellis looked at Rochelle, stunned.

"Now, are we going to go and get evacuated? Or would you guys rather stay here, make out, and poop yourselves?" Rochelle snapped.

Coach and Ellis turned to each other and grinned slowly, grinning poopy smiles of things yet to come.

"Well-"Coach began.

"You know what?" Rochelle sighed. "Don't answer that. Let's go."

Ellis approached the door and jiggled the handle. "It's stuck," he said.

"How?" Rochelle asked. "Nick just went out."

"Well, it don't matter now." Coach proclaimed. "Watch and learn, little cowgirls."

Coach winked and pressed himself up against the bars of the door.

"Mhmm. Don't fail me now, Satan." he whispered and slithered through the bars.

"Ssssss." he said flicking his forked tongue. "Ssss. Come on. Ssss."

The others turned into snakes and slithered through the bars. Ellis had to stop to shed his skin but, other than that, there was no trouble.

The three greatest of friends hurried down the long hallway into a small elevator.

"Oh, wow!" exclaimed Ellis. "That's Jimmy Gibb's school bus! The very same he used to drown all those children!"

"Hmm…" Coach mused. "This gives me an idea."

Rochelle looked surprised. "You thinking what I'm thinking, Coach?"

"You betcha!"

"Alright," Ellis said. "So what's the plan? Not that I'm not smart enough to think of what you guys are thinkin', 'cause I am. I just wanna see if you know."

"Well," Coach began. "I was thinking that we could go down there, steal the bus…"

"Uh-huh." Rochelle nodded.

"Drive it outta this mall…"

"Uh-huh."

"Get to a safe zone…"

"Uh-huh."

"And drown ourselves!" Coach concluded proudly.

"Wow, that's so perfect," Ellis cooed. He looked at Coach adoringly.

"Yeah, that's great," Rochelle said sarcastically. "But how about a plan that _doesn't_ end up with us all being dead at the bottom of a lake?"

"That's how all the best plans end, but whatever you say." growled Coach.

Rochelle reached out to press the buttons but was swatted away by Ellis.

"I wanna press the buttons! You did last time! If Nick was here, there'd be Hell to pay." He whined.

"Uh, okay, go for it."

Ellis' eyes lit up. He ran his hand down all the buttons and screamed. It reminded him of his grandmother's skin. Lumpy. Hard. Plastic. Glowing.

After several cycles of going up and down in the elevator and being squished against Coach, they reached the ground floor.

"There's the bus!" Rochelle said, pointing. "Come on!"

They piled out of the elevator, tripping over each other in a frenzy to reach the elevator.

"I wanna drive! I wanna drive!" Ellis howled.

Coach elbowed him in the face and took the lead. "Nu-uh! I'm gonna drive!"

"You'll get us killed! I'm going to drive!" Rochelle snapped.

They were all spiraling and tumbling into each other. It was worse than the time Coach was stuck in a washing machine at the Laundromat, trying to get the beef jerky out of someone's pocket. He had been in there for forty days and forty nights.

Coach reached the bus first and pried the doors open using his rippling nipples. He was the Hercules of their time.

Ellis darted underneath Coach's massive arm and turned the key that was in the ignition.

"Damn!" he shouted. "It's outta gas!"

Rochelle swore under her breath. They were all in the bus, but it was now surrounded by zombies.

"What do we do?" Ellis asked, his eyes darting around the bus. "If I could get outta here I could go siphon some gas out in the parkin' lot, just like my grandma taught me."

Coach glanced up. He had been on the floor of the bus sucking up apple cores and gum that had been stuck to the bottom of the seats. He found the taste of child spit made it all the more sweet.

"Look," he said. "There's a hatch on the ceiling. I can toss you outta here using my bulging muscles!"

Ellis shivered in delight at the prospect of being touched by Coach's chicken strip fingers. So thick, so strong, and covered in batter. "Alright," he moaned. "As long as ya'll can keep these critters off me."

Without opening the hatch, Coach grabbed Ellis and threw him through the roof.

"C'mon! We gotta keep these zombies off Ellis!" Coach roared.

Rochelle and Coach clambered through the bloody, Ellis shaped hole.

"Okay, hold 'em off until I get back!" shouted Ellis and he ran off towards the exit.

Rochelle looked at Coach uneasily. "Okay, it's me and you."

"Well, actually," Coach began, a wild look in his eye. "There's something I need to do first. Wait here."

"Bu-"

It was too late. Coach jumped off the roof of the bus, scaled a pillar, and was gone.

The zombies started to claw at the bus and clamber on top of each other. Rochelle fell down, weak in the knees. She tried to kick them away, but one was placed with another.

"Ahem!" a loud voice boomed through the mall. Someone was using the loudspeaker!

Coach rustled his papers in front of him. He had spent all his life waiting for the perfect tagline.

"Attention shoppers! All prices on VHS tapes are being slashed in half. And so are you!" he cackled.

The zombies looked around wildly, trying to see where the noise was coming from. They were in a frenzy trying to reach the loudspeaker and had forgotten about Rochelle for the time being. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Coach coming towards her.

He was swinging on a loose wire that was dangling from the ceiling. He landed on the bus, almost caving the roof in.

"What the Hell was that?" Rochelle gasped.

"I was trying to live my dream. Just trying to live my dream…" Coach replied. "You know. Be remembered for something."

"By zombies?" Rochelle asked, confused.

Coach waved his hand in her face. "You wouldn't understand. You don't have a dream."

"I'm a journal-"

"Oh! Look! It's Ellis!" Coach screamed, jumping up and down excitedly.

Ellis approached them, his cheeks swollen. They could hear sloshing whenever he took a step. He reached the bus, opened the gas hatch, and spit a small mouthful of gasoline into the tank.

"Is that all you have?" Rochelle asked incredulously.

Ellis glared at her for a second. He then punched himself in the stomach. Gasoline flew out of his mouth and into the tank. He was crying and shouting Nick's name through heaves of gasoline and last night's dessert.

"Let's go!" Coach yelled, and yanked the blubbering Ellis onto the roof and through the hole that Coach made.

"What's wrong, deputy?" Coach asked, cradling Ellis in his arms.

"Damn," Ellis sniffled. "Swallowin' all that liquid made me think of Nick… Oh, Nick."

"Sssh, it's alright, little man." Coach whispered, kissing Ellis' eyes closed. Coach could taste his warm, salty tears on his lips.

"So warm… So salty… Like old fashioned chicken noodle soup, mmhmmm."

"Coach! Stop eating my eyelashes!" Ellis whined.

"I wasn't eating them!" Coach denied. "I was just… Curling your eyelashes! Yeah… You look real pretty today."

"Oh, thank you kindly!" Ellis blushed, fluttering his eyelids.

"Guys," Rochelle piped up. "Sorry to interrupt, but the pedal is stuck."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Ellis snapped, angry that their cuddle time had been cut short.

"You're a mechanic, aren't you?"

"Naw, I just dress like this 'cause one time Keith was livin' in this graveyard and there were all sorts of different kinds of bombs and there was this goat that screamed for a year every time we opened it's eyes and we filled balloons with our own gators and he had third degree burns all over his turkey he tried to make when he was shootin' crows and he thought we could spice things up in the bedroom so I got these overalls and a horse and dancing for money and stuff and-"

"AAAHHH-OOOOO-AUGHHH!"

Ellis paused. "What was that?"

Coach and Ellis glanced at the front of the bus where the manly scream had come.

"It wasn't me!" Rochelle said, glancing down. "Oh my God!"

"Hey guys," Nick said sleepily, and pulled himself out from underneath the pedals.

"That's what was jamming the pedals! Ol' mechanic Ellis fixes yet another car malfunction!" Ellis declared proudly.

Nick strolled up to Ellis and grabbed his ass. "You're so magically, wonderfully, beautifully, impressive."

"Aw, shucks." Ellis blushed.

Before Ellis and Nick could embrace, Rochelle slammed on the gas and the bus lurched forwards.

They ploughed through any zombies in their way and right out the window.

"Hey, how'd they get the sky down here?" asked Ellis.

"It musta come down here when they saw they left an angel," purred Coach.

Rochelle screamed. "How did we not notice the bus was on the fourth floor?"

The bus sailed through the air, the ground rushing up towards them.

"Everyone, gather around," said Coach. "Let us pray… O Lord… The world looks mighty good to me, 'cause Tootsie Rolls are all I see… Whatever it is I think I see, becomes a Tootsie Roll to me.  
Tootsie Roll, how I love your chocolatey chew. Tootsie Roll, I think I'm in love with you… Whatever it is I think I see, becomes a Tootsie Roll to me. Amen."

"Amen," muttered Nick and Ellis in unison.

Maybe the prayer had worked. Maybe they were lucky. Maybe Nick's sex appeal had saved them all. Whatever it was, the bus landed on a smaller bus cushioned with pillows and boxes of cereal.

"That was an ordeal," Nick breathed and ran his hands through his hair. Strands of hair floated through the air.

Coach lay on the backseat of the bus. Rochelle had parked the bus on a seemingly deserted highway. They had clogged up the hole in the ceiling with gum they had found on the bus. It had been a battle to keep Coach from eating it, but they managed.

Coach rolled on his side, sighing. The air was still except for the gentle breathing of his friends and Rochelle.

"Oh, Iqbal…" he whispered. He held the Monopoly piece he had taken from Iqbal's wallet and let his tears pour over it. "Iqbal, oh, Iqbal. You are the number one in my heart. "

Coach froze. He heard a dry rustling underneath the seat he was planted on.

"What in the…?" he muttered. What could it be? The sound almost sounded like mice rustling through dead foot skin in his old room. But there were no mice. Only foot skin. And a broken heart.

Coach leaned over the seat and peered underneath it. He opened his mouth to call out to whatever was under there, but a dry, itchy hand slapped over his mouth. Coach's eyes widened in surprise as he was dragged under.

"Mrrrmmrrrfff! Mrrrmmrrfffmmm!" a familiar voice crooned.

"Iqbal?" Coach stammered. "Is that really you?"

The only reply he got was a pair of, cold, dry, crusty, dead lips on his own. It was the most erotic moment of his life.

Coach grinned stupidly. He stroked Iqbal's ear hole lovingly. He licked his lips. "I wanna make sweet and sweaty love to you all night."

Iqbal made a series of stifled squealing. That was consent enough.

Coach and Iqbal crashed into each other's already naked bodies, like two oceans of passion.


End file.
